


Minecraft, but the Universe is Against Me

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Cults, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, Epic Bromance, Gen, Minecraft PETA, Minecraft but real life, Misunderstandings, Non-Graphic Violence, Not really but it's pretty close, Swearing, Worldbuilding, running away a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: All George wanted was to get stock up on diamonds, get home, and enjoy a rare moment of peace. Unfortunately, fate had other plans and decided to plop an irritating, ungrateful little... menace in his lap.For some reason, George is now tasked with saving this tiny white blob(?) from a vengeful witch, a dragon-obsessed cult, and literally every hostile mob on the planet.Yeah, he isn’t sure how his life got this crazy either.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 298
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Minecraft, but it's the Zombie Apocalypse

As streaks of lightning flashed across the sky, George could only think of three things: How he was bitter, upset, and very very wet. 

He was currently standing at the base of a particularly tall tree, shivering as he tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation of clothes clinging to his skin. The dense dark oak forest he’d stumbled upon was a blessing (the only one that he’d come across today), but even the thick canopy was not enough to keep stray droplets of water from occasionally landing on his brow. 

The sky had been clear for weeks, but for some reason it just _had_ to rain today, probably to ruin George’s mood. He’d say he’d be surprised, but considering how crummy the rest of his day had been... well, it was easy to think of the rain as just the cherry on top. His compass broke halfway to the mine. The dungeon he had risked life and limb to conquer had only resulted in a chest full of rotten flesh and a single iron ingot. He’d come across tons of coal, but no diamonds. And just as he decided to leave the cave, it started raining? 

_At least this day can’t possibly get any worse,_ he thought, slumping against the trunk of the tree. 

(As he later found out, it was indeed possible for his day to get worse.)

As George wallowed in self-pity, he let his weary gaze wander over his surroundings. No matter how peaceful his surroundings seemed, it was never a good idea to put your guard down in the wilderness. He lazily scanned the expansive prairie in front of him. It was littered with flowers, which were pretty, but nothing really of note. Turning to scan the forest beh-

Wait, what was that in the distance?

George leaped to his feet, summoning his sword in a bright flash of light. He had left his armor at home (definitely one of his dumbest decisions), but at least he had the good sense to bring his prized netherite sword. It glinted ominously in the low light, it’s wet sheen making it seem more intimidating than usual. The weather may have made it harder to see, but something was moving in the distance. He shifted the weight his legs, boots squeaking as his heels dug into gnarled roots. He was ready to pounce, ready to strike, ready to- 

KABOOM!

The explosion made him flinch, but blinding hot panic quickly whittled into quiet relief as he realized it was nowhere near him. It looked like there was a new smoldering crater a bit more than 100 blocks away. A creeper explosion? Likely. _Those green bastards are trigger happy enough to explode anything,_ he snorted. He prepared to settle down agai-

Wait.

What set off the explosion?

He tensed up as he went over possible explanations. A peaceful mob? There none in the area: he would know, seeing as he walked through that field no less than 5 minutes ago. A wandering trader? No, it would’ve chugged an invisibility potion the second it had started raining. Sapnap? Bad? The display on his wrist said otherwise, showing him as the only online player in this world.

A hacker?

His blood went colder than before, if that were even possible. He could hear his heartbeat pound his ears, loud enough to drown out the incessant downpour. The netherite sword in his clammy grip might as well have been a wooden one if that were the case. What good would a weapon do against a developer powerful enough to twist a private realm? One oned by another developer, no less? What if they came in and-

He stopped his mental tirade before it spiraled into a full-blown panic attack. No, a hacker would be as unlikely as anything else. He had set up the firewalls personally. They might not be as impressive as the defenses of bigger servers such as Hypixel, but they were enough to deter most. Besides, what would his world as small (and new) as his have to offer? He had a few plugins littered around his house, but those were incomplete and frankly, useless to a developer of such a caliber. 

As he mulled over possible explanations, he nearly failed the notice the big fucking mob party heading towards him. A hoard of creepers, skeletons, and zombies moaned, clattered, and hissed as they staggered in his direction. He scrambled backwards, tripping slightly over muddy roots. He braced himself for arrows to sail past him, but they never came. Confused, he forced himself to slow his breathing and reexamine the scene before him. They were certainly heading towards him, but none of them seemed to notice him yet. In fact, their gazes were curiously tilted downwards, as if chasing something a much shorter target.

He squinted harder. It was hard to tell, but there was definitely something hidden amongst the grass. It was… white? It was hard to tell from such a distance away, but as the shape grew closer he was able to make out the form of a-

_THUNK._

An arrow flew past his head, just barely scraping the tip of his ear. 

George cursed. Loudly. He had clearly loitered long enough for the mobs to take interest in him as well. Frantically, he struggled to locate his shield. It took him a while to find in the scattered mess of an inventory, but soon it was equipped and George was ready to bolt. Not a moment too soon, as it turned out. The second he turned to face the enveloping forest, three arrows embedded themselves inside the tree bark his head had been leaning against milliseconds earlier. 

“SCREW OFF!” He screeched, ducking and weaving between bushes and trees. The mobs, of course, weren’t phased at all. He wasn’t even sure if they even had ears, now that he thought about it. And was it just him, or was the horde getting bigger? A low hanging branch came dangerously close to slapping him in the face, but he reacted with a quick twist of his sword, leaving it lying on the mossy floor. “LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU STUPID-“

Suddenly, he felt something thump against his back. Screeching at a pitch he thought wasn’t even humanly possible, he quickly whipped his head around to hopefully decapitate the offending mob that hit him. 

He stumbled, nearly missing a step, but whirled around to see — _what the actual flying fuck was this thing?_

His first impression was that it was a weird creeper. A really small weird creeper. A miniature albino creeper without legs and a creepy-ass smile instead of a grimace. 

…. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to describe it.

You couldn’t blame him, really. The thing looked so bizarre that it looked more like a children’s book illustration come to life than an actual animal.

The mystery mob was small: somewhere between a silverfish and a small slime in size. It’s porcelain white body seemed to consist of a long, cylindrical torso and a spherical head. It had no distinguishing features at all, save for the eerie grin plastered on its face. 

_Why the fuck is it so happy?_ He wondered. But when he heard what seemed to be a small growl from the creature, he realized he was sorely mistaken. Maybe the smile was permanent, much like a creeper’s scowl was?

“What the hell are you? And what’s your problem? ” he hissed, face scrunching as he did so. The white creature, who had barely moved since rudely slamming against him, simply went from a low growl to a weird, chittery noise. The strange warbling sounds continued as George stared in confusion. Was the creature... actually trying to respond to his question? The question had been rhetorical: he hadn’t expected the pint-sized creature to actually _understand._

“Uh. Sorry. I don’t speak… blob,” he said, interrupting what he assumed was some sort of response to his question. The blob in question stopped, it’s beady black eyes meeting his. It seemed to squint for a split second. Before he could decipher the meaning of it’s expression, the creature’s body seemed to flatten ever so slightly against the ground. The thing let out two shark squeaks...

Then launched itself directly towards his head.

George screamed as the creature collided with his face, his feet failing to catch him as he landed squarely on his rear. He hissed out a few colorful choice of words, opening his eyes to see the white menace staring back, trembling ever so slightly as it let out a wheezing noise. Was the little bastard _laughing_ at him? 

“What on earth is your problem??” he hissed, clamoring back to his feet. The troublemaker in question seemed to ignore him, continuing to make that annoying kettle-like sound. With every second he interacted with the creature, the more he wanted to wipe that smug smile off its face. Seriously. Why had it hit him? Misdirected aggression? Some sort of weird way to communicate with him? Asserting dominance? Just being a plain asshole?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t his problem. He had been so taken aback by the strange creature that he had completely forgotten that he was currently being chased by a hoard of bloodthirsty mobs. Sure, he had gained a bit of distance on them, but who knows when they’d catch up. The thing was getting on his nerves, and he really wanted nothing to do with it anymore. But just as his back turned towards the creature, he felt the familiar sensation of the mob launching itself directly onto his back, somehow managing to stay on this time. 

“Get off of me!” he yelled, trying - and failing - to swat the thing off. In his defense, it was kind of hard to do with both his hands full. His right hand was occupied by his shield, and despite how annoying the thing was he really didn’t have the heart to slice it with his sword. The blob responded to this provocation by letting out a high-pitched whine and jumping onto his shoulder. George froze to glare at it. It seemed to glare back. 

“How do you even manage to grab on? You don’t even have any limbs,” he spluttered, more confused than angry at this point. The creature tilted down to look at his body, then looked back at George. _Beats me,_ the thing seemed to shrug, which was weird because it didn’t have any shoulders to shrug with.

“You know what? Fine. Stay on.” He was running out of time and could admit a grudging respect for the little critter’s tenacity. It had managed to outrun a horde of angry mobs, after all. It was rude and slightly violent, but that wasn’t an excuse to leave a clearly intelligent being to be left for dead. “If you fall off, I won’t come back for you,” he warned. The blob nodded furiously, pressing itself against the collar of his shirt. 

Wasting not a single second, the man once again threw himself into running. It was a strange situation to be in, having a foreign mob pressed against your neck as you sprinted through the woods. He didn’t spend too long thinking about it, though. He had an angry mob horde to outrun, after all.

He scampered through the dense vegetation, once again falling to a familiar rhythmic sprint. Left. Right. Over a stump. Past a cave. Along a river. Nearly face planting into a muddy ditch. The last one wasn’t exactly expected. Thankfully, he was spared from a nasty bruise by his passenger, who had let out a sharp cry when his foot landed too close to a root. 

The second he saw terracotta, he nearly choked in relief. Mesa was rare, and seeing as he hadn’t wandered too far it was most likely the patch that sat adjacent to his base. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of Sapnap’s signature markers: a cobblestone tower in the shape of a penis. Crude and immature maybe, but in the heat of the moment, it was the most beautiful cobble penis he had ever seen. He let out a hysteric giggle. _Finally, an end in sight!_ He put an extra spurt of speed, emboldened now he actually recognized the area. 

He turned around to check how far off the mobs were. They weren’t exactly on top of

him anymore, but if he stopped they’d definitely be too close for comfort. Suddenly, the white mob let out another shrill cry. George startled, whipping his head around to- Oh my god that was a ravine. He skidded, wincing his heels dug into the ground. He gulped. If he had stopped even a second later, he would’ve been dead.

“Holy shit.” He cranes his neck to look at the blob. It seemed proud (or smug), the perpetual smile on its face stretching wider. “Um. Thanks for saving us from falling to our doom, I guess.” It chirped once in response, then turned to look behind, squeaking... urgently? George twisted his neck further, nearly shrieking when he saw the mobs within striking distance. 

Without a hint of hesitation, George took a step back, then _threw_ himself across the chasm. For a treacherous moment, he feared he overshot. A gaping maw of jagged stone sat patiently below, ready to swallow him whole. His jaw clenched, the creature on his shoulder seemed to float off for a brief moment-

And he landed safely on the other side. 

“Holy fuck. Holy shit.” He clutched his chest, fingers squeezing around damp cotton. “I am never doing that again.” 

The slight trembling on his shoulder was enough to let him know that the feeling was mutual. Taking a deep sigh, George took one last look at the angry mob before him, and started trudging towards the stupid cobblestone penis.


	2. Minecraft, but My Friend is a Dog

Are you going to leave now, or are you just going to shamelessly invite yourself into my house?” He asked, pushing the door open. 

The blob leapt off his shoulder, bouncing straight towards his living room.

George sighed. “I guess that answers the question.”

It had been a long trek back, to say the least. After running for what seemed like hours on end, he was tired. And hungry. Mostly hungry. After tugging off his sneakers and disposing of his disgustingly muddy socks, he practically staggered in the direction of the kitchen and peeked into his furnace. The scent of butter and starch filled the air, and George couldn’t help but smile. Freshly baked potatoes. Just what he needed. 

Within a few minutes he was settled on his couch, chowing down on his 3rd potato. He sighed in satisfaction, letting the tingling sensation of being healed pass through his body. The scrapes on his arms had almost completely faded, but the cut on his cheek was being particularly stubborn. He popped in the last bite of his potato, almost choking as he quickly tried to swallow it. Instantly, another wave of healing magic rushed through his body. He gave his cheek a tentative touch. His finger met with soft, healthy tissue instead of coarse, angry scabbing. 

Satisfied with his healing progress, he leaned into the couch cushions, his eyes fluttering shut.

 _Finally, a moment of peace,_ he thought. 

Suddenly, he heard a thud from upstairs.

_Ah, crap._

In his exhaustion, he’d somehow completely forgotten about the strange mob he had brought home. He shot out of the couch, skidding on the polished wooden floor as he tried to run up the stairs. He turned the corner, nearly shrieking when he saw the mob _knocking over his projects_.

 _“WHAT THE FUCK?”_ It wasn’t exactly the biting insult he was going for, but the sentiment was clearly received by the creature. It stood on top of his messy desk, frozen solid as scattered pages flew around the air. It’s head hung low, like a child that had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. 

_At least it has the decency to look guilty,_ George thought.

He stormed into the room, snatching a paper as it fluttered past his face. The room, while not the disaster scene he thought it would be, was still a mess. There were the papers, of course, but it looked like it had managed to knock over half his writing utensils he’d left on his drafting desk. His box of miscellaneous redstone was knocked over completely, with the wires he had carefully straightened out last night somehow tangled into a matted mess. His shelves and his finished projects were thankfully spared, but his latest device...

“Oh no no _no_ _NO-_ Oh thank god.” He cradled his latest contraption, melting in relief when he saw the light still flashing. It wasn’t exactly his best work, by any means. It was a simple username and IP scanner, meant for some server’s whitelist. He didn’t actually know what the server was for, just that they needed the scanner done quickly and that they were willing to pay good money for speedy completion. 

“If you broke it, I would’ve thrown you out the window,” he hissed at the culprit. The blob hopped towards him, continuing to make that strange warbling noise. After a few seconds, it stopped again. Letting out a small huff. 

_Is it... getting mad?_ It wasn’t exactly easy to get a read on the limbless, nearly expressionless creature, but even George could definitely sense the metaphorical storm clouds forming over its head. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re trying to tell me something, but no amount of garbled mumbling-” the creature let out an indignant squeak. “-will make me magically speak mystery mob.” He paused. 

“Wait. You understand _me._ Can you answer yes or no questions?” The creature nodded furiously. “Fuck. Why didn’t I think of this earlier?” He muttered, pulling out his chair. He sat so that he was eye-to-eye with the white mob. He squinted. It squinted back.

“Alright. First question. What are you?” 

It gave him a pointed look. 

“Oh, sorry. Yes or no questions. Um. Are you some sort of... redstone contraption?” It shook its head. 

“Huh. Maybe magic?” It nodded violently. “I figured. I’ve heard of seasoned sorcerers that can-” The blob cut off his rambling with an impatient squeak. “Jeez. You’re a rude one, aren’t you?” A huff in response.

“Are you a player made?” It paused for a brief second, then shook his head. “What? The only things that can use magic are players and- OH!” The creature flinched slightly from his sudden outburst. “Was it a witch?” More furious nodding. 

“Ok so. Let me get this straight. You’re made of magic, and a witch created you.” Surprisingly, the blob shook his head. It gave a low growl. “What? Which part of that was wrong? I could- never mind.” The creature looked like it was getting agitated, and George didn’t fancy another bruise on his face. 

“You know what? Whatever. This doesn’t even matter.” The creature squawked in what he assumed was protest. He ignored it. 

“What _matters_ is why you’re on my server, mister, uh.... blobby,” It let out another kettle noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. 

“Wh-Hey! Don’t laugh! It wasn’t that bad!” The more flustered he got, the harder the creature wheezed. George felt a blush threatening to form. He resisted the urge to throttle the thing as it’s laughter grew louder and louder. 

“You’re avoiding the question. Did you come to like... hurt me or something?” It continued to wheeze. He scowled. “Just to let you know, the window remark wasn’t an empty threat,” George warned. _Finally_ , the creature’s laughter subsided. It shook its head once more. “Were you _sent_ by someone that wants to hurt me?” Another shake. “Did you even come here on purpose?” A shake again.

George blinked in disbelief. “How do you accidentally land on a server protected by firewalls _on accident?”_ It did that weird shoulderless shrug again. He sighed. The creature’s ‘story’ (if you could even call it that) was suspicious beyond belief. He’d normally accuse it of lying, but... 

“..Didn’t Bad mention something about magic-made creatures being bound to the truth?” he muttered. The creature’s head whipped towards him. “Sorry, just thinking to myself.” George shook his head, and then turned back to the creature for another round of questioning.

He continued to grill the creature for another hour, with little results. Either the creature was being vague or George wasn’t asking the right questions, because he ended up leaving the conversation with more questions than answers. 

“So. You’re a magic creature. You’re somehow involved with a witch. You don’t know how you got here, but you need my help for something?” Finally, a nod. “Oh, thank god. No more twenty questions.” George leaned back in his chair. As he opened his mouth, he heard a rumbling noise. 

_Is my stomach growling? But I just... oh._ He turned to look at the blob. It... blushed? 

George giggled, feeling tension leave his shoulders. His giggles soon turned into a fit of hysterical laughter, and even the embarrassed looking creature joined in with his kettle-like wheezing. It didn’t make sense, even in the moment. It wasn’t even that _funny_. But there was just something about a magical amorphous blob the size of his hand having its stomach growl louder than a ravager that struck him as hilarious.

“I think I have something in the kitchen for you. Meet me downstairs,” he gasped in between stray giggles. The creature nodded enthusiastically. 

———

“I know it’s not much, but I think you should be able to eat this,” George shrugged, setting down the bowl filled with Mob-Tastic Munchy Kibble(tm). Technically the kibble belonged to Dog, but it wasn’t like the canine was here to complain. The traitor had gone to stay at Sapnap’s for the weekend. “Dog food should be blob-friendly, right?”

The creature started at the name engraved on the iron bowl. Then, shaking. Was it happy? Was it really so starved that it was shaking in excitement at the sight of-

The blob flattened itself against the ground, and before it had even reached his face George realised he had fucked up once again.

After George had pried the thing off his glasses, a long yelling (or in the creature’s case, squeaking) match followed. “Okay. No dog food. Any dietary restrictions? Allergies, maybe?” he said sarcastically, scrummaging through his fridge. There were a few loaves of stale bread, a bowl of mushroom stew, and... hm. The pork chops he was saving for Sapnap’s next visit. 

_He won’t notice if I cut off a few tiny pieces, right?_ He pondered, already pulling out his kitchen knife. He grabbed a relatively clean-looking plate out of the sink, plopping a few small chunks on top. Finally, he set it down on the counter where the blob sat. It stared at the plate for a few seconds, before giving an approving nod in return. It leaned in towards the food, it’s grinning smile just touching the pork...

Then it’s torso contorted like putty, and suddenly the pork was sucked into the new gaping cavity in the creature’s chest. 

Silence. 

Then George, for what seemed to be the tenth time that day, let out a blood-curdling scream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think your new friend will be able to help?
> 
> Don’t get comfortable, D̸̖̜͕͇̱͗͆́͊̃͆̾r̸͔̤͓̲̥̱͠e̴̛̞̍̈́̎̅͐̐a̸̠͍͔̲̺͓͉͓͛̽͜-


	3. Minecraft, But The World Changes Every Time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for disappearing for like, 2 months,, school kinda kicked my ass ngl
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> \- Author

“You’re fucking terrifying.”

The blob looked up from his meal. If it had eyebrows, he was sure they’d be raised. 

_Yeah? What are you going to do about it?_ It seemed to taunt, devouring a piece of pork with its weird... chest mouth. George grimaced as yet another morsel was sucked into the dark pit in its stomach. 

“Is that hole in your chest connected to the void or something?” he complained, staring bitterly at what remained of his hard earned dinner. Well, technically it was Sapnap’s dinner. but seeing as he was the one who actually prepped it, the point still stood.

The creature took another unapologetic “bite”, maintaining direct eye contact as he did so. 

_Little bastard._

George felt like his comment about the creature’s stomach being linked to the void wasn’t that much of an overstatement. The blob was barely bigger than his palm, but had managed to eat almost the entirety of Sapnap’s dinner in a few mouthfuls. Eating a Sapnap-sized meal was a feat all on it’s own, but eating one when you barely weighed 10 pounds soaking wet? Witchcraft, in the most literal sense.

The coder maintained uneasy eye contact with the creature as it gobbled down what remained of the meal. There was an odd moment of quiet when the blob finally finished eating. Then, after carefully positioning itself behind the rim of the plate, it headbutted the plate in his direction.

“You finished eating?” It shook its head.

“...You want more?” It nodded, dumb grin stretching further. 

George massaged his brow. “...My fridge is going to be empty after this, isn’t it?”

With clear hesitance, he slid off the tall stool and made his way towards the fridge. It would’ve been easier to just tell the blob he had nothing left to eat, but if he was being honest, he really didn’t want to test the creature and it’s black hole of a stomach. If he didn’t feed it, who knows what it’d go for next? His couch? 

_I’d rather leave my living room intact, thank you very much,_ he grumbled internally, shivering slightly at the thought of - god forbid - another trip to OKEA.

He rummaged through the fridge again, desperate to find something edible. He was planning to restock on food yesterday, but he had gotten so sidetracked by his project that it’d completely slipped his mind. The bread, mushroom stew... basically, nothing had changed since the last 5 seconds since he checked. He bent over slightly to see if there was anything hiding in the back. A forgotten jar of honey, some somewhat fresh potatoes, and...

“MUFFINS!” he yelled. He heard a loud squeak behind him, whipping his head around to see the creature staring straight at him. He felt an uncontrollable smile stretch across his face. Meal forgotten, he strode across the kitchen, haphazardly throwing supplies in his inventory as he scrambled to get ready. 

“I know someone who could help you!” He exclaimed, digging through a chest. He fished out a ratty medallion, tossing it directly into his hotbar. He spun around to face the blob, who looked rather disorientated by the sudden burst of exctiement.

George took a deep breath. “Okay. So.” He struggled to wriggle on a still muddy shoe. “There’s this guy who may or may not be a sorcerer?”

He lifted his foot up, nose scrunching up from the scent of soggy socks. “His name is Bad, and he runs this small minigame server that may or may not be closing in like. Thirty minutes.”

Finally, George fiddled with his goggles, making sure they were still firmly in place. “If we book it right now, we can _maybe_ get to Bad’s in time. So if you want to get some actual help, _hop on,_ ” he grunted, pulling the door open. With a few large bounds, the creature bounced it’s way back onto his shoulder. Clearly, George wasn’t the only one that needed urgent answers. 

With his inventory prepped and the creature firmly attached to the shoulder, George threw the door open and booked it towards the glowing glowstone portal in the distance. 

For the first time since he’d wound up in this strange situation, George felt like something was finally going his way.

\---

Nothing was going his way.

“What do you _mean_ you don’t know where MunchyMC portal is?” George hissed. The security guard took a step back, his eyes darting wildly in every direction. A few curious pedestrians glanced their way, but made the wise decision to keep on walking. In their defense, It was certainly a weird sight to see on a Wednesday evening. An unarmed man with an unknown creature perched on his shoulder threatening a cowering guard in full netherite in the middle of the Hub. Clearly, the irony was not lost on anyone.

“Sir, p-please. This is my first day,” the guard stammered. “If you wait a few minutes, my s-supervisor can-”  
  
George’s hand combed through his hair, fingers aggressively sliding through tangled locks. “I’ve told you, I don’t _have_ a few minutes! This is where the Munchy portal has been since _forever_! Surely you can find out where it was relocated without getting your manager?”

“Well s-sir, according to my documents this is where the Manacube PVP i-”

Even the creature flinched as George took another large step forward, his narrowed eyes seeming ever the more ominous under his red lenses. “I. Already. Know. This. You’ve been regurgitating the same information to me like a broken record for the last ten minutes. I’m on a tight schedule here _buddy_ , an I’d appreciate it if you could _please get out your fucking transmitter and search it up before I shove a sword straight up your-”_

Luckily for the guard, an onlooker interrupted before George could complete his threat.

“Hey, kid!” A man hollered, waving furiously in his direction. 

George twisted his head around, an instinctual frown already forming. “ _Kid?_ I’m not-”

The man cut him off. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Looking for Munchy, yeah? Heard from a friend that they’ve moved it next to the tower.”

George grinned, his feud with both the man and the guard completely forgotten. “ _Thank you!_ ” he called back, already running towards said tower.

The central world (or the hub, as most people referred to it nowadays) was the definition of an architectural nightmare. As the single converging point between every player-inhabited world, it was... crowded, to say the least. More _reasonable_ players (like George, for example) decided to live in smaller, more private worlds where they didn’t need to rub elbows with their neighbours. But for some reason, a large majority of players decided to settle down in the hub. Whether it be because of the tight security or simple convenience, George couldn’t say. All he knew was that before anyone realised how overpopulated the floating island was getting, it was already far too late. Houses of every shape and size lined the narrow streets of the Hub, ranging from ‘beautiful mansions’ to ‘glorified dirt shacks.’ The most the then-budding Council could do about it was enforce a few laws over land ownership and a very strict height limit. 

A height limit that the tower did not follow, making it one of the most recognizable landmarks in the city. 

George sprinted through the alleyways, ducking and weaving through the crowds with practiced precision. The blob on his shoulder continued to cling on for dear life, earning more bewildered stares from other players as he continued running. His eyes remained firmly planted on the tower just peaking above the city skyline. He may or may not have accidentally knocked over a kid, but he simply didn’t care anymore. By Notch, he _was_ going to get to the portal in time if it was the last thing he did.

After what seemed like a decade, the tower finally came into full view. George let out a ragged sigh of relief, coughing slightly as he realised how out of breath he was. He quickly scanned the area. Vendors were set up in every possible corner of the plaza, shrewd gazes eyeing every potential customer with ravenous intensity. Civil workers clocking out from work filed out of the tower with bags under their eyes and slouched backs, barely batting an eye as more boisterous, adventure-oriented players pushed their way out of the many minigame portals around the plaza. George slowed into a jog, trying to find the familiar blocky logo of the Munchy server. 

_There_. He finally spotted it. Nestled behind what appeared to be a cheap weapons booth, a sign clearly labeled “MunchyMC” hung above a still-active portal. Without hesitation, George dived straight through. The all-too familiar nausea overtook him for a brief second, but left as soon as it came. He staggered out the portal, feeling a tinge of relief as he was met with a familiar lobby layout. Thank Notch. It seemed that Munchy hadn’t completely remodeled: just relocated. 

He gave the communicator on his wrist an experimental tap. A full teleportation menu appeared in front of him. _Thank Notch_. He still had admin permissions. He scrolled through the extensive list of teleport options, fingers hovering over the last entry in the list: “Bad’s Muffinery.” George smiled wryly, tilting his head slightly to face his strangely quiet guest.

“After all these years, he still has his office listed under the same warp name,” he chuckled, pointing out the said warp name to the clueless passenger. The blob tilted it’s head, but didn’t chirp or warble like it usually would. The blob stared at the entry for a few seconds, then turned to look at George again. It lightly bumped its head against his own. _Just get it over with,_ it seemed to urge. 

For what felt like the millionth time that day, George sighed. Straightening his back in anticipation, he took a deep breath, then hit the button. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try your best, D̸̖̜͕͇̱͗͆́͊̃͆̾r̸͔̤͓̲̥̱_e̴̛̞̍̈́̎̅͐̐a̸̠͍͔̲̺͓͉͓͛̽͜-,. I'll enjoy watching you struggle.


End file.
